Isobel came down within the time she had allowed herself, neatly gowned and her hair brushed into a simple style, a Norwich shawl draped negligently over her elbows. She only hoped that this old woman who was here to see her did not notice that she was an imposter and did not know anything about her as well. Her hands were trembling from all the excitement that she had endured while her encounter with Abe and now she was here fighting for composure with iron determination.
“Lady Britchwell, I am so sorry to have kept you waiting. I do hope that Pritchard is looking after you. Fresh tea is on the way.”
“No need to be sorry child. You were not expecting me. Glad of the chance for the rest, truth be told. I have been running all around like a scalded cat all day long.” She accepted the fres
